How much cocaine is too much cocaine? You might say it's not possible to quantify. Maybe too much is when you run out of money, punch your best friend in the face or suffer a mild heart attack. But we all must agree that in truth there may be no such thing as too much. As much as there is may be just the right amount. Embrace that and you'll experience the kind of spiritual growth you've alway longed for.

You are in fact a douche bag. First class, professional league, ready for Hollywood, Wall Street or Cupertino. Everyone seems to know it except for you. But hey ignorance is bliss, and you would only ruin what in truth is a highly successful schtick if you were to become self-conscious of what you do to people. So I suggest you avoid therapy at all costs, but you might want to go to one of those $20,000 Tony Robbins workshops just to say you did it.

You devious little cunt. You have everyone fooled. Normally I would write something like “people are onto you” or “you won't get away with this forever,” but I have great news: you are destined to con, connive, plot and scheme your way to success, and further, it looks like next week you stand a good chance of embezzling at least $5 million. Yes, you will be questioned by a federal grand jury but they, too, will fall for it just like your mother did.

Look in the mirror and repeat after me: I am a goddamned genius. Say it again, and again, and again, till you really believe it. If you believe it it's true, and you will that will make you convincing. Then you can apply for a job as a math professor or air traffic controller. Everyone knows these jobs are much easier than people make them out to be. If you're good at guessing, you will be right at least one out of four times, which is plenty.

Did that guy who walked past you swipe the data off of all the credit cards in your pocket? Did you leave the stove on? Is the kitchen window open, guaranteeing that the cat will get out and fall to the street? Did your date last night have herpes? Is that pimple malignant melanoma? These are ultimately the kind of profound questions you will have to answer for yourself.

Make. Up. Your. Fucking. Mind. About. How. You. Fucking. Feel. This is not about you; you love to live in a world of ambivalence or ambiguity. It's everyone else who you have to worry about, the suffering you're causing the people who care about you, who have no clue how you feel about them, yet who cling to you desperately hoping that finally, one day, you will admit to having any actual emotions at all.

I hate you. Hate you hate you hate you hate you hate you. I would eat you, but you're too big. I would torture you, but you insist on ignoring me. But here is what you simply do not understand. I am smarter than you, and I'm more patient. I will wait for you to have a moment of weakness and then I will pounce. And you will live to regret that day.

Get a clue. Really. You think everything is so simple. Your supposed attitude that "everything will always work out" is just a mask for your deep abiding pessimism and misanthropia, which in turn conceals several layers of highly complicated psychiatric issues not covered by DSM-V and which are not even planned for DSM-XVII. You look like you're doing pretty well on Xanax, but you can't put that on your resume. Or at least I don't recommend it. You know you came into this life to conquer and maraud. What on Earth is stopping you?

What is love? You have one idea, but you must eventually come to grips with its eminently tragic nature. Your deeply romantic constitution will not stop the Sun from going nova, keep the Bomb out of Iran's hands or prevent anyone from having those hormone surges that induce them to forget their ethics and travel to Las Vegas for half a dozen lap dances, no matter how pure you personally are. The only reason you wear those heart-shaped glasses is to prevent eye contact. Trust me, it works.

In the land of the blind, a one-eyed man is not only considered crazy, he actually is. That would be you. This your saving grace, and at least you have one. These days life is handing you so many choices. Do you close the other eye, or open both of them? Do you squint, and pretend you can't see? Or by keeping one eye open, are you just trying to subtly inform the world that you're always telling a little white lie? The fact that you insist on keeping everyone else in the dark about your true nature will not save you from reincarnating as the world's first chimpanzee who can type 70 words a minute in three different languages. Thank God you have a future. Not everyone can say that.

You like to call yourself sensitive. You're sure you're such a good listener. You seem so concerned about everything and everyone. You love your cats and never hesitate to toss some pink salmon to the local stray and that helps you feel good about yourself. You think your kids, your boyfriend and the local pigeons adore your cooking, but they are just hungry and desperate, like everyone else crawling around the planet's grimy surface. Everything you give them, such as apple crumb cake, is a substitute for giving them yourself. Why do you always look so surprised when you make a discovery like this?

Ah yes, you are an original. The innovator. The best inventions are always so simple. And you are so clear-headed, so unequivocal. Not exactly a freak of nature, but not entirely natural, either. Your origins may be uncertain, and many people claim credit for you. Even more people just toss you around, claiming that your feelings are their feelings. You keep telling yourself that everyone stealing your identity is a form of left-handed flattery. It is not -- it is simply stealing. But unlike anyone else around here, at least you have a Wikipedia page.

Soon enough, you will reach Nirvana. But I am speaking on a cosmic scale, in geological time. It may take two or three epochs. How long is that? Don't worry about it. Today aspects indicate that you are beginning to wonder whether selling all your stuff, closing your bank accounts, quitting your job and moving to a squat was really the right decision. That is the right question to be asking, particularly since it's been more than ten years since you did that. But hey -- at least you're happy. That is the most precious gift in the world.

You will live to regret being evil. You know this. It occurs to you at least three times a day. But still, with lust in your soul, you persist, and wreck the lives of others, and you enjoy every minute of it. Face it, perpetrating evil brings exquisite worldly pleasure. Frightening people really is a testament to your power. Intimidating them is what you were born to do. The fact that everyone is so hot for you only seems to prove your point. But you simply cannot account for the tastes of others. None of this is really your fault.

Most people envy your attitude, treating every day like it’s an extended vacation and life is one giant groovy party. You are so optimistic, you would go skiing during nuclear winter. But sooner or later, you will take off those sunglasses. Everyone does; you are not exempt. And eventually, your admirers and followers will all catch on that your bloodshot eyes are not from all the late night partying, the fabulous Hawaiian weed you've been smoking or from working so hard on your new script. Read the label on your bottle of saline solution. If it starts with "Danger," don't put it in your eyes.

You love being the way you are. Admit it -- it's taken you daily practice since you were 15 seconds old. Ok, the moment you showed up, they grabbed you with forceps, whacked your ass and stuck a rubber nipple in your mouth. That seems to have set things going in one particular direction. You've never known anything else, and that puts you at a huge advantage. That's not really my place to inform you, though; you do a fine job of bending the entirety of humanity to your "will." Moreover, you love the intensity of it all, and at least we can say one thing about you -- you're consistent.

You have a right to be who you are and to feel what you feel. Has anyone ever told you that? If not, let me be the first. Even you, yes you, have a right to feel good about yourself. Now, if only you could get everyone in the world to feel exactly as you do, life would be perfect. Well, let me also be the first to tell you something, you're doing a brilliant job of it. But I assure you -- there are still a few more people out there who enjoy sex. In fact, there are some in every city. Not just in the country, but in the world. You have your work cut out for you.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. And what a beautiful life it is. Just think, we live in the most exciting time in history. The world is your oyster and you are free to do anything, go anywhere, talk to anyone you want, make music, dance, celebrate or invent something that will someday save the world and make you a huge pile of cash. Hey, you can even email Madonna from her MySpace page. While I was recording your latest weekly prediction, I saw something important about you and your future. You can hear the first minute or so immediately when you click here.

I know you feel safer in there, sort of blending in with the crowd. But let's "face" it, you're just proud to be insecure. You've made an art form out of it, far surpassing everything else you do that you call art. You love being told who you are. On some level, you feel you deserve the way others project onto you -- that exquisite feeling of being trapped inside everyone else's perceptions. As your astrologer, I've some hot news for you. A rare alignment of the asteroid Nobody with the planet Uranus in your birth sign means that at long last, your true identity will be revealed. Is there anybody home? We shall soon see.